


Adding and Subtracting

by murpymurpwriter



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Dead Ben Hargreeves, Dead David "Dave" Katz, Drug Addiction, Gen, Military Backstory, Past Child Abuse, Rehabilitation, Sick Number Five | The Boy, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murpymurpwriter/pseuds/murpymurpwriter
Summary: Klaus has tried to get clean many times but the last person he thought would help offers him a chance at sobriety he can't refuse. And after fighting him to the nail he starts to realize that maybe Five isn't as strong as he thought he was.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 69
Kudos: 230





	1. Chapter 1

Klaus isn't a numbers guy.

Ha, isn't that the truth, he thinks as he lifts his sign a bit higher as a white lady with a bob haircut and cateye sunglasses passes by. As expected, she doesn't even look his way but he still bids her a blessed day and looks at the next pedastrian who doesn't cross the street when they see him. You think he would be, a numbers guy that is, given his real, biological, as in printed on a birth certificate in some dusty public records office somewhere was the number four. But he was Klaus. He had made that very clear from age ten onwards, which was just about seventeen years ago, that he was a pansexual, non-conforming hippie who would henceforth only answer to Klaus.

Well... he might answer to something else for $25.

He smiles at an elderly couple that comes by who looks like they go to church every Sunday, say grace before their casserole or pork chop dinners each night, but probably watch Fox News with a bit of drool at the corner of their mouths. They offer him a few crumbled dollar bills despite his judgement but won't look him in the eye; he curtsies and counts it with a small smile. So yeah. He isn't a numbers guy but he is a homeless guy who had things tallied up in his head pretty damn tightly. Because he was $21 short of being able to afford a six inch sub with a bag of chips and a drink, plus a bump to get him through today until he was able to afford to go down to Sycamore St. to get some good shit, the kind of shit he'd have to lovingly heat up and shoot up in some scummy gas station that some lazy, teenage attendant pretended to clean. 

He'd been at this since he'd woken up on the steps of some old recreational center that had been shut down for years and begun to sluggishly rub at his eyes, smearing his eyeliner. He had rolled up his sleeping bag and tent, stuffing everything into his one backpack and Marine issued duffel bag. His dog tags had bounced against his chest as he smacked his lips sleepily, and then checked his stash. Well, he checked to see if he still had a stash and lo and behold he did not. So he brought out the good old cardboard sign, plastered on his best puppy dog pout, and chose a piece of sidewalk.

"You ain't no veteran."

"Oh contraire," he says easily, but the man with the ball cap and the beer belly is sneering at him.

"That's stolen fucking valor! Some real veteran outta kick the shit out of your lying ass-"

The man spits on the sidewalk and shoves Klaus out of the way. He continues to mumble angrily under his breath but already Klaus is back to looking at the crowd to see if there are any sympathetic eyes that he can catch. But for the most part people are ignoring him, or are looking at the back of the retreating pedestrian with praise in their eyes. It's true the clothing he wears doesn't make him look like much of a soldier with his thin frame, long hair, and skin tight leather pants beneath a bellowing green shirt. But much like how he wasn't a numbers man, he wasn't a liar either. And he'd probably die before he ever wore fatigues again, even if it would probably bring in more dinero.

His hands begin to shake when he thinks about the weight of the gear he wore in Afghanistan, about Ben and Dave who had been with him one moment in the arid, dusty hills where the air squirmed with heat...and gone the next. Klaus had thought he had something to prove by going into the Marines. He doesn't know how some people did multiple tours. Diego did one before his dishonorable discharge from the army. Luther had gone into the Airforce and had never seen combat which was probably why he ended up making it a career. He should have refused to go in. He should have chosen a different branch. Maybe he should have chosen to run away and taken Ben with him, Ben his brother who was so kind and naive and so willing to follow his older brother even if it was into the Marine Corp-

"You like roast beef?"

A highschool age girl with a nose ring and a beanie gives him a paper bag lunch with a sandwich, gatorade, and some chips. His brain spins and spins so long he just goes back to counting what he has in the breast pocket of his green shirt. He would just need $14 to have enough for his daily pick me up, so he smiles shakily as the people pass him by, sweat collecting at his hairline from both the afternoon sun and something else. He's starting to feel worn out and anxious as the hours pass by. Someone throws some change at him and he scrambles to pick it up, ignoring the laughter because it doesn't really matter if he gets what he needs. They think he has an ego or that they can hurt him but they can't hurt him if he gets what he wants which is now just $12.28 away-

"For the love of- would you atleast not grovel?"

Klaus looks up, squinting because he knows that condescending tone. He had forgotten. He has another military brother, another Marine, special force, he didn't even know what else kinda brother who had done a whopping three tours or something and had been father's poster child and pride and joy. His younger brother Five was a numbers guy come to think of it and according to their adoptive father, a real soldier until the accident but most importantly...he was a real dick who had run away at 13 and then returned at 20 to show their father how perfect he was only to cut them all off again for seven years when he'd been honorably discharged. Klaus had no idea what he was up to these days but apparently he also took pride in berating homeless people on the sidewalk. 

"Oh, hey. If it isn't my littlest bro. Cómo está usted?"

Klaus stands up to his full height with his dirty hands full of change and he still towers over his brother though they both don't have much meat on their bones. There's only maybe two months between them and Five is in sharp contrast to Luther, his oversized fraternal twin. His blue eyes are cruel and his features are even more sharp and angular than Klaus remembered. His brother looks angry but also just a little tired, but Klaus focuses more on the anger. How much anger could fit into such a small frame he wasn't sure.

"Have you no respect for yourself?"

Klaus blows a raspberry, " Oh come on man, you're acting like this is the most degrading thing I've put the fam through. Sides, if it pays the bills and all that...so what brings you down to Seventh Street?"

Five narrows his eyes, " You're on Second St."

"Oh, whoopsie daisy." Klaus had been a little bit out of it this morning so he had likely confused the Starbucks across the street for the one that was on Seventh. He tried not to get too near this side of town and honestly that explained why he had been having so much trouble. This was the easy traffic and more financially stable side of town; fewer bleeding hearts then the middle to lower class, but he was at least less likely to be stabbed here than the bad side of town, "What brings you here?"

" I live here."

Klaus feels his eyes bulge, " You're homeless too?!"

" No, moron. The door you're currently blocking is to my apartment complex."

The taller man spins around and finds that behind a locking cast iron gate there is a pair of doors right behind him, just three steps up. Looking up he sees that a four-story building with some balconies decorated by plants can be seen and huh, that does seem to be an apartment complex, he thinks just as Five tries to shove past him.

Somehow Klaus reacts without thinking and he grabs Five's shoulder. He is shoved off harshly, " Uh, hey. Sorry bout that. But now that you're here, think you could-"

" I don't know why you would think I would ever help fund your habit-"

Klaus tries to look indignant, " Come on, it's not even for that. I got a phone bill and laundry to do-"

" You have an Obama phone and the Navigation Center on Abbott lets you do laundry for free, " Five says bluntly as he unlocks the gate and climbs the three steps quickly; his leg muscles can be seen flexing in his boney legs beneath his baggy running shorts, " You could at least lie efficiently, Klaus. Atleast put in the effort to scam me."

" I'm not scamming you. I would never, " Klaus pauses but then speaks swiftly when he is able to slide in through the gate before it closes. 

He can feel adrenaline pumping through his veins and he knows this is a bad idea but somehow he can't stop following his brother. They had been kinda, sorta close as kids. Five didn't tease him like Luther and Allison and Diego did. Five had loved adventure novels, so he'd read them aloud to Klaus and Ben who would pile onto the small twin's bed, pretending to use a hanger as a sword as he spoke with so much emotion and paced like a Shakespearean actor. And he recalled Five would smuggle a bit of his dinner to Klaus on the days their father said he had to go without for his behavior, or some candy bar or snack bar that no doubt his brother had lifted from a convenience store on his way home from school. Five wasn't a bad person but he had abandoned them for a long time. And his attitude when he had returned had been...well, to put it simply unpleasant but to put it truthfully, he was the world's biggest asshole, second only to their father.

"Tenants only. " Five says, fumbling with the key for the door.

" Hold on, hold up, brother o'mine. Is it so wrong that I want to catch up on your life? How are you? How's that peptic ulcer you've been developing since age seven? I'm good, fallen on hard times, thanks for asking. If we can be honest here I could really use $15-"

" What you could use is rehab, " Five drawls, his eyes furious but his tone even, "but we both know that father has wasted quite a pretty penny on that in the past. "

Klaus is starting to feel a little annoyed, "Come on, man. $15 and I'll go away."

" $15 and you'll go get your fix, potentially OD, but if not return to my apartment to ask for more money."

" Or I'll go get myself a turkey sub, a bottle of cheap laundry detergent, and go back to Sycamore street."

Five doesn't respond right away.

"You never seemed to care before, " Klaus stumbles over his words when he sees Five's head turn sharply like his statement is a surprise, "I mean, you ditched this family for how long? No explanation even just poof, gone, poof, I'm back and I'm exactly what dad wanted, suck on that loser siblings, and then poof-"

"You have no idea what I went through to get back to this family, " comes the angry hiss. 

It stuns Klaus into silence but he doesn't think much about the why now that his head is pounding from withdrawal, and his mouth is starting to feel dry. Because the point is that he left, twice. As if he can read his mind, Five hands him a green thermos and a peanut butter protein bar, "Keep it. It's Colombian dark roast but you can steal some cream and sugar packets I'm sure."

It's a nice thermos, and he probably could use a protein bar. Still, his hand catches the door and he leans over the smaller brunette, wondering how pitiful he must look so pale and sweaty. Five was right about him being pathetic, about him having the opportunity to get clean but it wasn't that simple. Couldn't his brother just give him the $15 and leave him to his mess of a life? If their father hadn't been able to get him to straighten up with all his lectures and glares, it was very unlikely that Five would be able to with the exact same method.

It makes him far more upset than he thought it would. He should be used to Five turning his back on him and walking away. He shouldn't be this angry about his addiction being called out. But when he watches the brunette turn so that he can fumble with his key, Klaus starts to argue and the thermos falls out of his hands so that it can go rolling down the steps, under the gate and into the street, "That's it? I don't see you for seven years and that's all? You act like it's easy being out here. "

"You don't have to live out here."

"Oh? Where am I gonna live then? I have no money and dear old dad cut off everyone but you and Vanya. Save the lecture. Not all of us are perfect-"

" If you wanted to get better, you'd let me take you to rehab."

" You gonna pay for it?" Klaus sneers and he feels ugly now. He can feel negative emotions bubbling up in him. This is the addict talking, he tells himself. If he had just gotten what he needed then he wouldn't have to be so mean, " You won't even give me $15. I mean to be honest what incentive do I have for being clean. I don't have friends who are living or family. I really don't have anything- "

" You'd have $10,000 if you actually did it."

Klaus blinks, having to grip his brother's shoulder to keep from falling down the steps. This headache had decided to add light sensitivity to its list of symptoms, " Pardon?"

Five raises an eyebrow and then leans in close with his teeth bared like some kind of feral animal, " If money is the issue, let's put some incentive, like you said, in the mix, shall we?"

"Huh?"

"You complete a sobriety program and stay sober for sixty days and I'll write you a check."

" Huh? " Klaus says dumbly because he wasn't expecting that at all; Five was supposed to be the predictable brother because he only had two settings which was annoyed and angry.

"What's the matter? You said I wouldn't even spare you $15 but here I am, willing to invest quite a bit more. So what's the problem? Is money not the right incentive?"

Klaus stared. Five was essentially an old man in a young man's body. He was grumpy and his motto was to pull yourself up by your own bootstraps and if necessary to choke your enemies with them aswell. This was a gesture that came completely out of left field, and reminded him more of the kid he had grown up with. Gulping, Klaus squinted at the shorter male as his heart began to pound, " I mean, in 60 days you drug test me or I bring like a certificate and I get it all at once? How about a cash advance and then I do the program thingy after-"

Five's expression smooths before he speaks in a low tone; while it seems to pain him not to retort he chooses to ignore Klaus's last comment, " Meet me at the methadone clinic on Iverson at 4pm and you'll find out. "

The door slams and the tall, former Marine sits down heavily on the steps. The idea of being sober again scared him but at the same time he didn't want to say it was hope stirring in his gut but it was something, something nice and also comforting. Klaus wasn't into numbers but this time he thinks as he listens to Five's distant footsteps inside, leaving him to the afternoon sun, the crowded sidewalk and his flimsy sign... $10,000 was a pretty high number to ignore.

But when had Klaus ever made the right choice?


	2. Chapter 2

Klaus doesn’t go to the clinic. Of course he doesn’t. Instead, he lazily leaves Five’s stoop with a pathetic groan and makes his way out of the gate only to trip over his own dragging feet. He half expects the woman whose way he falls in to scream, to assume he is gonna rob her of her very nice designer purse or prick her slim, pale arm with a dirty needle or something, but instead she gasps and then kneels delicately. He looks up at her bouffant hairdo, her extreme lashes and the vibrant blush on her cheeks; he expects the Texas accent long before she opens her mouth.

“Oh bless your heart, “ she is hesitant to touch him and her nose wrinkles at his less than great odor.

Before he can speak, she is pressing some crumbled bills into his hands and tut-tutting at him like he is a petulant child. Her frown causes deep lines in her makeup-caked face as she gives one more sympathetic pat and stands. Her heels click as she walks away, and Klaus plays dead for a second as he blinks stupidly. Other people sidestep him on the sidewalk before he finally gets around to looking at what she had placed in his boney hands. Rolling from his side onto his belly (hot hot, the sidewalk is hot), he finds her business card which is some church-gospel-ministry thing so he chucks that over his shoulder and looks at the rest.

Klaus counts with trembling fingers and then gasps, hugging the money to his chest as he warbles, “ Pennies from heaven! What would we do without Texas evangelicals!”

He gets to his feet, wanting to skip all the way to fifth street with his newly acquired $20. He wasn’t feeling lunch anymore, a new craving swooping in. He licks his dry lips hungrily nonetheless. Maybe coming to this side of town hadn’t been such a mistake after all, he tells himself, sashaying down alley after alley and county easement until he found the man he was looking for. And for several hours after that, he forgets all about his dad, big bouffant hairdos, his life, and even his little brother up on 2nd street.

\--

Klaus is vomiting. His eyes are not opening and he has pretty limited control of his body (not that he would move even if he had the strength or ability to). He can’t remember how he came to be vomiting, or laying down because there is no way he is upright even if it feels like the world around him is shimmying with leftover dredges of pleasure and pain. He’s coming down faster than he would have liked but he’s not necessarily feeling bad...well, except the whole sloshing of his insides which are determined to become his outsides.

“You pathetic sack of vomit, “ comes a hiss right next to his ear.

He’s not laying prone anymore but the person trying to lift him is not having the easiest time resulting in him being dragged and jerked. The back of his knees and his ankles hit something and there is a creak of hinges in desperate need of wd40, and then he is being dragged some more.

“Stop it, or I’ll break your fingers.”

Klaus doesn’t know what exactly he’s doing but atleast he isn’t painting nearby surfaces with his guts anymore. The person helping him is warm and maybe that is where the threat stems because Klaus is kinda, sorta draped over the smaller, lanky figure. But in his defense his legs are like jello and he still can’t see except for a blur of colors and he might very well be blacking out with each little wave of whatever he was on. It felt like his body was trying to fight the toxic mixture he’d filled himself with, with mixed results and that just wouldn’t do-

He opens his eyes, his nose burning and Klaus isn’t being dragged anymore and probably hasn’t been for some time. The brunette with the swollen lip has two tired, angry blue eyes. It’s hard for him to recognize his brother but he does recognize the nasal narcan still in the other male’s nimble fingers. Klaus feels clarity hit him like a speeding train and a curse escapes his chapped, trembling lips.

“Fuck.”

Five’s eyebrows angle downwards but then he is leaning back on his knees, “ Don’t move. I had to insert the IV in your shoulder.”

Klaus blinks, his eyes looking left and then right until he sees a makeshift IV pole which happened to be an empty coatrack. He must be in Five’s apartment because it...it certainly seems like somewhere Five would live. He can see books, and stacks of papers. So many books and papers, and blank walls. There are blackout curtains and a pretty ceiling light that he feels stupid looking right at since now he has spots dancing in his vision. And he suspects there is a nice rug beneath him, one he drags his fingertips against despite his hands feeling cold and numb. To be honest, he’s really cold and the cold IV flooding into his veins is not helping, he thinks with chattering teeth.

“ C-could we- “ the addict sputters, “ T-turn up the heat...b-before this convo?”

Five sighs and disappears a moment, his footsteps light. He is wearing shorts just like before and running shoes, his calves and thighs like toothpicks but Klaus can see the lean muscle flexing as he walks away. There is a soft rumble which must be the heater, and then a throw blanket hits Klaus in the face. He struggles to get his limbs to move, so eventually Five returns to spread it over him; he can feel a pillow under his head so at least his brother had been a little thoughtful.

The floor creaks as Five kneels with a small case. Klaus turns his head, his neck flopping as he watches the petite man hold up liquid methadone to the light and then but it back in the case. He lets out a small noise of curiosity before he closes the case, and moves to sit with his legs tucked under him. At this angle Klaus can see the faint white scar that cuts through his eyebrow and disappears into Five’s hair line, as well as the faded burn scar that was hidden under the collar of his argyle sweater. It was weird to think that his little brother (well, only by a month and six days) still looked younger and unaffected, he thought as the cold started to disappear. 

His eyes drooped and he let them fall closed as a warm, childlike hand wrapped around his wrist as if to feel his pulse. Klaus slurs, “How’d I get to 2nd street?”

Five doesn’t answer, though his grip remains.

\---

Klaus feels like shit. He groans and rubs his face with a clumsy forearm, yawning as he looks up at wooden rafters and a pretty chandelier that kinda reminded him of what they had at the mansion as kids. Turning on his side, he ignores the aches because what he is laying on, this...couch, he determines, is comfy as hell regardless if his sore body. He can imagine if Ben was here he’d be bouncing on it, then curling up at the end to read a book but...that sobers Klaus up and he dumps the woven brown blanket on the ground as he stands swayingly. Looking around at the small living room, he sees a kitchen near the front door and so he pads across the soft brown, red, and sandy toned rug until his toes touch cold linoleum. He gets himself water in a plain white mug, then spots a bottle of wine near the fridge-

“Don’t even think about it.”

Klaus’ hand comes to his chest, “ Christ, you revive me just to almost kill me?”

He was starting to remember now. He had gotten the good shit and it had been a minute, okay, since he hadn’t settled for cheaper tar that wasn’t cut with something else. He would never accuse Josie of cutting it with something like fentanyl, afterall. And he had been very, very happy with his purchase hours after. But he didn’t quite remember how he came to be in Five’s living room on the other side of town. He hadn’t wandered, all strung out over here, had he? Maybe his impaired mind had thought he might score another $20 because he really tried to stick to the rivers he was used to.

Five snorted, drawing his attention to the small dining table that was covered in paper, and also a small tablet. A small pair of glasses were perched on his brother’s pointed nose as he typed, working on one of intellectual projects. It reminded him of when they were in school, memories of the seven of studying as Mom dotted on them. Ben, Vanya and Five were the studious ones and actually studied while Diego and Luther talked about sports, and Allison and Klaus talked shit about what some of the girls in school were wearing or who was going out with who. Five used to snap at them to shut up, his Advanced Trig or Calculus or whatever always more important than any of their gossip. And then Ben would put a hand on Five’s shoulder and the argument would be delayed- fuck, Klaus wiped at his eyes. Twice he had thought of Ben. That had to be some indication that he was far too sober and so he grabbed the wine, only to have it ripped out of his hands.

“ Hey, what are you-”

Five opened the window, letting in the noise of the city before he released the neck of the bottle. After almost a minute, there was the sound of shattering and with that he shut the window and rounded on Klaus who actually took a step back. How had Five even moved that fast-

“Okay, “ Five’s smile was feral, “ We’re going to lay some ground rules, and when I say rules, I mean you will do as I say, when I say.”

Run, Klaus hears the thought cross his mind and wouldn’t you know it, that sounds like a good idea-

“Or you can go back to Marty on Fifth street.”

Klaus feels like he’s frozen solid because that...Five should not know that name. And Five knows he shouldn’t know that name, given the casual way he brushes passed him to get himself a mug of coffee. Watching him take his first sip, Klaus feels trapped. There was no way. Marty was his old dealer who had hired him as a runner when he had run out of credit on his tab. He swallows, or at least he tries because it feels like his tongue is swelling with every passing second. But despite his distress, Five continues to look smug although when he lowers his mug Klaus can see a scab on his lip and the wrist brace on the hand not holding the mug is odd-

“So the deal is you stay here, let’s say...two weeks. I got the idea that Marty and his buddies aren’t the patient type. They’ll move on in that amount of time, “ Five yawns, his tone casual, “ If you decide to OD after those two weeks, I could care less but you won’t be allowed any of your vices here for that span of time.”

Klaus huffs, “ Well, I’d hate to decline such kind generosity, really I would but-”

Five takes another sip, watching him go towards the door when suddenly Klaus thinks about earlier, " Were you serious about that offer of 10 grand?"

"Offer expired. New offer, take it or leave it."

Klaus turns to the door. He can hear a little voice in his head telling him that he is making the wrong choice but that was second nature by now. So despite being barefoot and shaky and thirsty and hungry and clad only in a pair of thin lounge pants that rode up his calves because they are meant for his puny brother, he walks out into the hall. The light buzzes behind him as he shuts the door behind him, and he smiles as he waves to the older lady peeking out of her apartment as he heads to the elevator. Her eyes stay glued to his tattooed chest and he makes sure to sway his hips as much as his sore body will allow. He won’t be able to do the stairs and it’s cold as he reaches the lobby, the large double doors he remembered being on the other side of...he gulps. The little niggling voice is back.

You could take up his offer. Five doesn’t make offers like this. No one does when you’re a lying addict that steals and yells at people until they have had enough and abandon you. And that couch was so comfortable and maybe Five would let him order tacos because he was getting hungry but... sobriety. He’d have to get sober, and stay sober two weeks which was just all sorts of bullshit because there was a very good reason why Klaus was like this and if they could just leave him to his suffering that would be preferable. But, Klaus curses aloud because he is still standing outside the elevator, hesitating to go out on the street. Because fuck. Marty wasn’t the one to fuck with, and now that he thought about it...he thinks he remembers. He’d wanted a cheap beer and a place to treat himself to what Josie had wrapped up like a gift for him, and the only place he could think of that wouldn’t throw him out for being in the bathroom stall, who would even let him walk in without suspicion...he’d walked into the Traveler’s Pub and fuck. He’d done it a thousand times before, strolled into their grungy, dark dining area and sashayed to their yellow and green tile bathroom without any thought but getting high.

But he had known. He had heard that Marty was making connections, building himself up after he’d gotten out of prison. And why wouldn’t he have a look out in every sleazy spot in the city, especially when idiots like Klaus thrived in those spaces. And maybe if he didn’t have an exorbitant debt well...well, Klaus never did things in halves. If he odd Marty a few hundreds, that’s one thing but...he owed a little more. He had maybe, sorta...smoked merchandise that had been meant for sale. But Marty had probably made that all back, if he was already expanding his grip again, right?

Klaus steps out on the stoop, blinking as the setting sun shines right in his eyes. He’d be fine. Five could keep his rules. Klaus was gonna be just fine.


	3. Chapter 3

Klaus doesn't leave the stoop. He thinks about it, really he does. But his knees are trembling pretty strongly when the door closes behind him and if anything, he thinks that is a good indication that it would be best for him to just sit down for a moment which happens to be on the very first step. So he sits and shivers and looks at his bare toes, wiggling them every once in a while.

People are passing by on the sidewalk but it's different than last time. They seem to be in full color and a lot more...clear. He can actually hear the sound of the traffic and distantly, birds and a dog barking noisily somewhere. He can hear one of the other tenants to the apartment building behind him talking on the phone to what sounds like her mother, then smells toast being burnt. The cold of the concrete underneath his legs and butt seems colder than usual, and being pressed against a solid surface is very grounding; the last time he had been here he felt like despite the solidity of the ground beneath him that he still might just float away. That was one part of being high that he truly appreciated, the feeling that he wasn't trapped anywhere. But as of right now he's very grounded and very trapped, which is probably what Five knows he'd realize since he hadn't even tried that hard to convince Klaus. He just expected Klaus to make the right choice which was very reminiscent of Dad.

But it wasn't logic that was making him pause. Fear is threatening to make itself front and center in his mind but he's trying pretty hard to keep focusing on other things. Honestly, he didn’t think he had any self preservation left and yet here he is, pausing despite how badly he could use a smoke to blur the edges a bit. Things are too clear and colorful, and he doesn't want to think about Marty or Sycamore Street or his manipulative little brother. So instead he thinks about the nice breeze and the feel of the sun on his skin, telling himself these aren’t bad things. He doesn't really know what has changed because every other time he had OD'd he felt like dog shit the next day. But whatever Five had put in his IV had been a miracle worker because he feels shaky and he feels tired but, he doesn't feel as bad as he should. He feels like himself, if that makes sense...

To be honest he hates it.

Klaus groans as he looks up at the awning hanging over him and the front door he’s still unable to leave, " You are such a douche, oh my gawd.."

He doesn't know exactly who he's talking to, himself or Five or even the voice inside his head that sounds like Ben. This is partly why he hates sobriety because there are very few things in this world that can quiet that voice and stop the constant reminders. Klaus can honestly say Ben was the one who truly felt like a brother, like someone who would always have his back through thick and thin. Luther and Five were always so judgmental and Diego was hard to get along with because of his ego. But Ben had always been so quiet and gentle and understanding, listening whenever Klaus needed to talk but also trying to convince him to do the right thing. 

And when Klaus wasn't high the pain of that loss, the hole in his soul more or less, seem to grow by the second. And no one seemed able to understand that, that it wasn't so much that he chose drugs over everything else but simply he couldn't function without them. Before he started using he was having a hard time functioning. He started off with smoking as a way to calm down and quell the panic attacks. And then it escalated because it always grew worse. It got to the point where it felt like he would either go entirely crazy or just drop dead from the sadness and the pain. And he figured if he was going to die anyway he might as well die seeking oblivion. Ben and Dave would be there after all, and unlike when he was sober it wouldn't hurt to think of them.

But Marty...he knew what he was capable. He knew what would happen if he was found again, and he was scared shitless. He'd have a slow and painful death, one that wasn't worth seeking one last high for. Five somehow knew this, probably deduced it with his big ole brain, Klaus thought angrily.

Cursing, Klaus stood up. Wavering on his feet he grabbed for the doorknob only to find it locked. He paused for a moment and then knocked, tapping continually until an older woman with suspicious eyes and an ill-fitting blouse peaked out at him. He smiled and waved hello.

"Is this 221B Baker St?

She turns away but he talks fast, " No, wait. I'm so sorry. I'm visiting my dear brother, adopted hence the lack of resemblance and tragically got locked out-"

"Name?"

He hurries to answer, " Huh? Oh. Klaus Har-''

"No one by that name-"

"Wait, wait, wait! No, I'm Klaus. My adorable little brother is Fivel Hargreaves-" He's feeling sluggish again but to his relief she opens the door for him and soon it's just bare feet noisy on the wooden stairs. No thirsty neighbor looks at him as he finally finds the right door. It takes him a long time to knock but he's cold now and hungry And could really use a nap so he knocks. In the back of his mind Ben tells him he's making the right choice and that as soon as he gets used to it he'll be a lot happier sober.

Klaus can't help but sneer, and this is the expression he greets Five with. But the smaller man doesn't comment, simply sips his coffee and steps away from the open door. Shutting the door behind him, Klaus wraps himself in a brown, fleece blanket that he finds folded on a nearby chair with a pathetic groan. He throws himself onto the couch, grumbling.

" As soon as I'm no longer being hunted, I'll be gone with the wind again, old man."

Five is back at his little table, peering at his tablet, " Sounds fair ."

"Did you really have to ditch the wine though?"

The look that he received says it all and with another little whimper, Klaus throws the blanket over his head. This was going to be a nightmare.


	4. Chapter 4

The desire for tacos didn't last long for sooner rather than later he wasn't feeling great again. He was somewhat grateful that he had chosen to stay at Five's apartment because the alternative was that he would have to be on the street feeling like shit. But that being said he also could have found a cure for this overall shitty feeling on the street. Although he knew the dangers of going back into it after an overdose. He had been told by numerous nurses and EMTs as well as the short-lived sponsor when he was in an outpatient program. But that didn't mean he wanted it any less.

Groaning, he looked over at Five to see what he would do. He received no response, not even a glance as his petite brother continued to type away one handed with a crinkle in his brow from concentration. He stops for a moment, rubbing his bandaged wrist absentmindedly before he goes back to whatever it is he is doing. Klaus let himself be quiet for a moment, letting silence fall over them before he let out a little pathetic whimper. This time he did see a small change in the other man's demeanor and so strategically he waited a couple more minutes and-

"We are going to have a problem."

It is stated like a premonition instead of a question but Klaus just continues to shiver in the brown blanket where he is huddled on the couch. Five glares, once more rubbing his wrist. Deciding to just go for it, Klaus whined, "Can we pretty please, uh, you know, turn on the heat? I can't feel my poor toes."

Five sighs but stands, his joints cracking, " You have been living outside in a tent and still can't withstand the slightest chill?"

"Out there a little booze would warm me up but since that option literally was thrown out the window…"

Faintly Klaus can hear the rumblings of the heater starting and he sighs in contentment, watching as his brother goes to the kitchen instead of back to his work. His mug, long since empty, is still sitting by his tablet so it is safe for him to assume that Five is making something for him. Coffee perhaps and the warmth sounds nice, but then he sees the small box of tea. Despite being a proclaimed hippie, the addict has never been a big fan of tea but he doesn't protest. He'll drink it if it warms him up and helps get rid of the headache that is throbbing behind his eyes. Waiting on the couch and shaky again, Klaus starts to feel a tiny bit nauseous but when the steaming hot cup is offered to him, he takes it. He manages to grab the stirring spoon between his bloodless fingers, stirring before lifting a spoonful to his lips to blow. 

"Smells like Christmas."

"Peppermint tea. Good for stomach aches." Five says almost awkwardly. He's hovering with a scowl so Klaus asks with his best pout.

" A spoonful of sugar, por favor?"

Five huffs but heads back to the kitchen, looking in almost barren cabinets for some time, long enough that Klaus drinks the cooled tea with a pinch of irritation and finds that isn't bad. His hands are nice and toasty and while he was worried about how the first sip would hit his stomach, he's not too bad off. Finally his brother comes back without sugar, instead gripping a pack of crackers. Klaus tucks them next to him and tries to smile. He's about to make a joke about Five needing to make a grocery run when he is cut off.

" You have a few more hours until you can take an additional 10mg."

It takes his sluggish mind some time to catch up, but he nods nonetheless and watches as his brother goes back to his tablet. But something stands out to him and he finally asks, not entirely expecting an answer, " What happened to you?"

" What do you mean?"

Klaus sips his tea, " Your lip, your wrist…"

" None of your concern. " Five won't even look at him, his face contorting into one of intense concentration as he stares at the screen," Eat your crackers."

Klaus thinks he falls asleep for just a little bit after that because his next memory is of laying sideways on the couch and seeing his mug on the small side table. Blinking, the sun has set and it is almost completely dark outside. The glow from Five's tablet illuminates half of the room, and it is clear that he is alone. The heater is still going and he hears the packet of crackers crinkle as he shifts, but then it becomes apparent what has woken Klaus other than the worsened headache and body aches; he hears a phone ringing.

" Yo, littlest bro, " he rubs his face, groaning as he raised his voice alittle, " Phone call!"

He gets no response and it annoys him. The sound is like daggers in his head so finally at last he stands up, cursing, and staggers towards the small dining table. He knocks over some paperwork as he grabs the small phone, squinting at the screen until he realizes he recognizes that name, and quickly swipes up to answer the call, " Diego! Hey man, what's, uh, what's happening?"

"...Klaus?"

"Yeah, yeah. The one and only, " Klaus snickers, leaning against the table to keep his balance; he is feeling even worse now that he is upright. It had been a good number of years since he had spoken to his brother, not since the funeral but he does his best not to let the jitters get to him. They weren't on bad terms but they also weren't on the best terms as Diego was another person he'd lied to and cheated out of money, though probably no more than $50. He worked for the police department last Klaus had heard so he could afford that loss, Klaus thought guiltily. " Listen, Five can't come to the phone and I'm gonna...gonna change your ringtone because it is annoying as fuck, okay?"

Diego continues to sputter, " Where is he? What happened?"

"He's-"

Klaus blinks and he is on the floor. Rolling onto his back with a groan, he looks up to see that Five have returned and is holding the phone. Even though the smaller man isn't looking at him in any way he knows that he is angry by the stiffness in his shoulders. Plus, he had just knocked him to the floor so that didn't exactly seem promising. From this angle, he can't see Five's face but he can see he has changed into what seem to be pajamas. 

"I'm fine, okay? Why are you calling?"

Klaus struggles to stand, " Ow, gawd, why are you so mean?!"

" I told you, I'm fine. " Fives ignores him, pacing as he talks on the phone. From Klaus's position on the floor he can now see that the bathroom door is wide open with the light on. There is condensation on the mirror and a tiny bit of mist wafting out from the room. This must have been where his brother was hiding, or showering more like, "Yes, he's here. No, not really. Why? It doesn't matter. "

There is a pause and while he can distantly hear Diego talking he can't understand what he is saying. He can tell from the tone in Five's voice however that it is likely a misplaced lecture. When had Diego grown a pair and actually had the balls to talk back to their most aggressive brother? Actually when had the two become on speaking terms as that was the real mystery. Groaning pathetically from where he is on the floor, the addict decides to crawl towards the couch again and open the pack of crackers. He crunches noisily through three or four before his stomach decides that he cannot handle any more food. He wants some more hot tea and maybe six other blankets despite the sweat collecting on his brow.

" Yeah. At 2pm. Stop lecturing me. I'll call. Yes. I said I will. "

Five hangs up and just stands near the dining table, the tiniest bit unstable on his bare feet. Finally he turns to Klaus with annoyance clearly written on his face but instead of making some snide comment he instead reaches for a dark case that lies near the couch. He pops it open and looks at the containers of fluid, before getting a small serving cup and starting to pour the fluid into it.

" Now that you are awake you can take this orally."

" Oral?" Klaus slurs.

Five rolls his eyes, pressing the cup to the other man's lips. It might be the lighting but the smaller man looks very pale, probably just as pale as Klaus, " This will help with the withdrawal symptoms. It should also help you sleep some more."

Klaus takes the cup with fumbling fingers, drinking it like a shot. To his relief the mug of cold tea is handed to him next so he can wash it down. Of course it takes a moment to feel anything but slowly he starts to get a warm feeling starting from his stomach and spreading out to the rest of his body to erase the different aches and pains. It might be the placebo effect because he knows the effects of methadone well or maybe it really is acting fast. Regardless he does like the idea of settling back down for a nap but he still has so many questions.

" Are you and Diego close?"

Five considers the question, " We are on good terms at the moment. "

"No one knows I'm here."

"They do now. I have no doubt in my mind that Diego is on the phone with Allison right now." Five scoffs. " Do you not want to see them?"

Klaus flinches, " I, well...hey, what happened to your lip?"

Sighing, Five just shakes his head and goes back to his work. Some hours pass and Klaus doesn't feel so bad but he doesn't feel that good. It's frustrating enough that he goes back and forth for some time, thinking about leaving numerous times especially given the risk that his other siblings may show up or call again. But somehow the other Marine is very patient with him, connecting him to the Wi-Fi so Klaus can watch TV on his broken phone. He doesn't seem to mind that the volume is turned up all the way or that the majority of what he is watching is pretty crude. Five just works and works until finally he's stands from the table with a grumble.

" I'll hear the door if it opens. Or if you move my things around."

Klaus lazily eats a cracker, " Okay."

" You stay on the couch. I have an alarm for your next dose. Ask before you take or use anything. "

" You're going to bed?" 

Five frowns, his voice stern, " I'm a light sleeper."

Klaus nods, chewing thoughtfully. He's doing his best not to be offended but he also understands that with his track record and erratic behavior that it is a reasonable concern that he will just leave or that he will rob Five. He supposed the biggest deterrent here was that not only was there nothing of real value except maybe the tablet, but that he knew the consequences of fucking over his brother. He recalled when they would fight as children how vindictive Five could be and that he tended to hold grudges. He also knew that Five was very good at finding people if him being found on Sycamore Street was any indication. He's still unnerved by him, that he knew about Marty and seemed to have some kind of inside knowledge about the seedier parts of town. Swallowing, he curls up tighter in the blanket with a small smile.

" Good night, mein bruder. Wake me up if you decide you want to cuddle."

Five huffs but after staying to hover a couple more moments he finally went to his room. The creaking of a mattress indicated that he had crawled into bed and Klaus, true to his word, closed his eyes and settled down to try and sleep some more. 


	5. Chapter 5

Klaus wakes in the middle of the night and it's like from one to the next, he's asleep and body less, then awake and in so much pain. His muscles spasm, his guts churn. He whimpers and then he finally yells, hoping the sound will chase away the cause of his pain. But it doesn't. He aches and weeps, and faintly he can hear that annoying ringtone that signals the alarm that was mentioned for his next dose then...footsteps.

"Shhh, hey, look at me."

He tries to curl away from the faceless being that touches him with cold hands. Is he in hell? Did he die and now all he would ever know is this trembling pain and fear? He is forced to turn toward the creature and he cries out, flailing. Cursing reaches his ears and the feel of something wet on his arms doesn't compute at first.

"Klaus, you idiot!"

Tears trickle down his face. He wants to be numb, oh how he longs to not feel a damn thing. His veins pulse it feels like with a sense of need, his heart pounding and flooding him with an intense craving. He knows what will make it stop. He's been through this before. He needs-

"Drink or I will make you drink."

Klaus flinches but the hand gripping his jaw is like a vice. He sputters but then a large syringe minus the needle part is pressing between his chapped lips. His jaw is stiff from withdrawal but the liquid still trickles around his teeth, seeping around his missing molars and onto his tongue. It's gross but he swallows, otherwise he'll choke. He still almost chokes but another gulp, another swallow to make sure and he is allowed to fall back against the couch. The figure shuffles around in the darkness, fluffing the brown blanket that Klaus clings to and suddenly he starts to feel...warm. His teeth are chattering and his head is pounding with the remnants of a migraine but with every passing minute he is giving in to the call of sleep. How he can even think of sleep when he feels like shit...well, he's not feeling as bad as he should, he thinks as his blanket cocoon continues to get warmer. He's just so used to feeling so little that even the most minor sensations of pain and withdrawal are too much for him. He never really had the greatest tolerance to begin with.

" I forgot to plug this in."

Klaus hums, not too concerned about the fiery pits of hell or the demon at his bedside (couch side?). He still feels kinda queasy but he can handle it. Hearing a groan, he realizes the figure has stood and is staggering away. He wonders where he is, who he managed to sucker into letting him crash at their place after a bender. He didn't have friends anymore, not even acquaintances. Hell, he had burned so many bridges they might as well call him Klaus the Lonely Island. He almost chuckles at that but that makes him feel more nauseous so he just smiles to himself.

"Don't wake up until morning."

Will do, he thinks and drifts off.

\---

Klaus thinks it's technically morning when he manages to crawl out of the blankets and then stagger towards the restroom. He barely has two seconds before he's vomiting all over the floor, but he has no choice but to keep putting one foot in front of the other despite the slick coating composed of stomach acid and tea with partially digested crackers under his bare feet. He shoves down his pants and falls onto the toilet with a clatter and thud. He had avoided one of two messes, he thinks which Five should be grateful about although he would no doubt pitch a fit about the vomit.

He feels like he's in the restroom forever but it's likely closer to 45 minutes, which is, well, kinda forever. Several of those minutes are spent with him wondering if he has the strength in his legs to stand up. He had at one point rested his head against the cool wall, hunched over and shaking in the cold air but not necessarily feeling too bad. It's a strange paradox, feeling like shit and feeling half okay. He thinks he might be swaying, might be dozing off. Actually, he knows he dozes off because when he comes back to himself he's in the bathtub with some kind of flotation device on his neck. He flails, flicking water everywhere and earning him a slap to the cheek with a loofah.

"You're disgusting."

Klaus blinks and slurs, "Like I haven't heard that before. "

Five glares at him, but stands up. He grips the side of the tub, pausing for a moment before he turns away completely, calling over his shoulder, " I'm not dressing you."

Klaus blinks some more, blinking and lazily laying in the too small tub for a long time before he he realizes the water is cold and he wants to be wrapped up in his blanket again. Groaning as he struggles to lift himself out of the frigid water, he doesn't have the energy to be embarrassed of his naked state. He almost falls headfirst into the shower wall then manages to catch himself, grabbing one of the nozzles to lift himself. Klaus only manages to get himself into a squatting position before he is out of breath. He sees a fluffy gray towel and a set of new clothes on the counter but it seems so very far away. The addict whispers to himself, arms shaking as he hoists himself out of the tub. The floor is clear of vomit but now it is soaking wet as he reaches up for the towel on his knees. Shivering, the cold air somehow convinces his body to cooperate and he manages to stand with the help of the counter. He pulls on the pair of joggers first and then leaves the button up unbuttoned. Running a hand through his damn hair, he decides to look at himself in the mirror and as expected he looks like a smoking pile of dog shit. Smiling at his reflection, he wobbles like a newborn calf back to the living room, back to the couch where his brown, electric blanket waits...only he would have if his weird brain hadn't told his feet to stop and his hand to grab the doorway of Five's bedroom.

He stared at the lump on the bed and thinks about calling out but-

" Go back to fucking sleep. I don't want to see you until after 12pm."

Klaus let's out a small noise of disappointment but leaves all the same. He feels...okay as he curls up in the blanket, he feels kinda lonely as he fiddles with the knob of the heat setting. He thinks Luther would have been nicer, doting even. Diego would have been aggressively maternal, would tell him to rub some dirt in it and walk it off but still come and sit with him. Allison would have turned on some teenage sitcom and sassed with him. Vanya would have put on some music, some good music like Pink Floyd instead of the classical everyone assumed she loved the most. And Ben...he was an idiot, wasn't he? Because why torment himself thinking about what ghosts would do? And why bother thinking about the rest of his siblings who he'd fucked over and hurt throughout the years... of course Five was the only one willing to put up with him. Though even that...why would Five put up with him like this?

He falls into a fitful sleep before he thinks of a good answer.

\--

At 2:03pm, there is a knock on the door. Klaus considers getting up and opening the door but decides since this is not his home it's not really his responsibility. So he waits and becomes increasingly frustrated with the sound until finally Five storms out of his room and opens the door with a hiss.

"You must be hard of hearing. I said no."

A buffer, more confident Diego brushes past Five and nods at Klaus, " Hey, long time no see."

"Good morrow." Klaus whimpers.

"Diego, don't make me hurt you." Five threatens as he stands beside the open door with a glare. The tan man just drops his duffle bag with a content sign, ignoring the smaller man all together as he looks at Klaus.

"You're not looking too bad, all things considered."

Klaus hums, " Danke. Though I should schedule a manicure, don't you think?"

Diego doesn't respond to that, simply grabs a dining room chair so he can sit backwards near the couch. At long last Five shuts the front door, but it's loud and angry. He comes to stand by Diego who continues to scrutinize Klaus, " So you're really gonna do it. After years and years of your shit...you're finally gonna get clean. Wow. I'm proud of you, man."

"Don't get too hopeful-" Five sneers.

Klaus pipes up, "I'm actually here under duress-"

Five and Klaus realize they have spoken at the same time and then both of them fall silent. Diego frowns and at long last he looks at the owner of the apartment he had more or less broken into, looking alittle...worried. Klaus is alittle put off because of all people he should be the one worried because he was living with a gremlin that seemed to sustain itself on hatred and caffeine. He was at greater risk of physical harm than Five and it also wasn't like he had the strength to really do much, " You sure you're up for this, bro?"

"It's alittle late for that, isn't it?" The smaller man snarks, going to the kitchen to prepare himself some coffee.

Diego looks at Klaus, " Did he tell you about-"

"I have him on Methadone and given that he's lucid on his third day here, I say it's going well. Typical symptoms of detox, minor."

"Minor to you, maybe..." Comes the retort from beneath the blanket.

"Okay, but what about you-"

Five slams his mug down and then smiles like a psychopath, " Let's order lunch."


	6. Chapter 6

To Klaus's surprise, he and Diego get along very well as they eat their lo mein and talk about their life's biggest failures. He learns that his knife loving brother divorced and currently runs his own small security company after being discharged from the police academy. Diego shoots Five an odd look when he says he had a little bit of help getting back on his feet after Patch left, he found himself unemployed, and they repoed his Mustang but he doesn't elaborate.

"That was a sweet ride, " Klaus recalls; for their father's funeral he was picked up in it.

" It fucking was. I bought these two speakers to swap out, got some dynamite seat covers...but I have a pretty decent truck now. I'm... I'm happy actually."

" That's good, real good. " Klaus says, surprised that he feels not even an ounce of jealousy. 

He and Diego had been close as kids but they did eventually qpart due to different interests and of course because of Klaus's addictions. Back in their teen years they had smoked pot together, and gone to a couple house parties posing as college students together so they could pick up chicks or debutants as Klaus liked to call them. Both of them had abandoned their vices when they joined different branches of the military. And after they lost Ben...that their relationship fizzled out because likely it was too hard for Diego to watch the downward spiral. He had always looked at his brother with worry when he would want to try harder things or he would get too drunk because there always was a limit that everyone else respected. But Klaus... For him there was never enough drugs or sex or excitement, which is how he had found himself homeless and addicted; there was no limit in sight. It was kind of embarrassing but he would not hide any of these truths because what was the point? He had long passed the guilty and apologetic stage for his actions and now was pretty upfront. He figured he owed the truth to them, and maybe that was part of why he stayed because he couldn't imagine staying with Vanya or Luther who he knew would be appalled and intimidated by the facts of his life. Out of all his siblings he figured Five and in some ways Diego were the least likely to be appalled by his honesty.

" Yeah, and I'm happy for you. You're changing direction, bro. You're finally-"

" It's alittle early for that."

" I'm just trying to be supportive, " Diego argues, then pauses. When he opens his mouth to speak after several seconds of thinking, Five cuts him off immediately.

" Not to discourage your little pow wow moment but…Why are you here?"

Klaus huffs as he pulls his blanket up to his chin, " Because it's warm. And I don't want Marty to bust my kneecaps."

"Not you, " Five rolls his eyes, " I meant the walking knife rack over here."

Diego pats one of his secret or maybe not so secret knives with a small smile, "Well you know that little lady that I've been renting a room from?"

Klaus snickers though he is for the most part ignored so he continues to shovel slimy, oily but tasty noodles into his mouth, " You always did have a thing for older ladies."

"Shut it. You're the one who was a sugar baby when we were-"

Five clears his throat, "Get to the point."

"Fine, okay. So that little old lady, well, she kinda died. Her kids are giving me a week from Friday to clear out."

" Holy shit, that sucks. Did she die when you were there?"

Diego flounders, " Yes, I mean no. She died...at a hospital. You know how old people just sometimes get sick and boom, they're gone. Anyway, I need a place to crash."

Five's eyes narrow. He's lounging in an armchair, his plate still full of Chinese food that Diego had forcefully served him but he seems rather disinterested in eating despite it being his suggestion to get takeout, " Intriguing timing. I'm thinking a week is enough for you to find another room. I'm also thinking that I did not invite you over here."

"Since you always forget to call back I figured I'd do you a solid and come in person at 2pm so we could talk about it."

Klaus looks between the two of them, feeling the tension grow. Right when the food had gotten there Five had returned to his bedroom, returning with a couple pills in his hand as he grabbed his mug of cold coffee to down them. For a moment his addict mind wondered what kind of pills those were and if maybe he could sneak around and find himself some but since Klaus wasn't feeling too bad at the moment he did not act upon this urge. He also did not act upon this out of a sense of self-preservation because he knew if he found himself in Five's room then he would likely be dismembered in retaliation. But since returning with medication, their petite brother had been quiet and rather lethargic, though Klaus had kind of assumed it was just so that he and Diego could catch up.

" Come on, man. I work long hours so it's not like I'm going to be bugging you all the time, and I'll pitch in for utilities."

Five reaches for his coffee cup and downs the rest, " No."

"Aw, come on Fivey. It'll be like old times when we lived together as miserable little children."

Diego winces, " Look, it's only temporary. Plus if I'm here I can help you."

" I don't need, " the frail man sneers, gripping the arms of his chair as if the offer of assistance is about to push him over the edge, " Your help."

Casually, Diego turns his head to Klaus who is watching the exchange awkwardly, " He tell you that he's sick?"

" Diego, I swear I'll-"

Klaus feels his guts start to churn and he sets aside his own carton of take out to look at his smaller brother. He sees the thinness which he mistook for lankiness and paleness along with the bruising beneath Five's eyes. He looks exhausted but also so very angry as he snarls about privacy and minding your own business. The injuries he had noted the day before were glaringly obvious and Klaus wants to ask again but he can already tell that a fight is brewing. He turns to look at Diego, taking in the scarring that is on the side of his head that is made more apparent by his short haircut. There doesn't seem to be any regret in revealing Five's health issues, if anything there is an element of smugness that seems to always come out when Diego oversteps boundaries. Part of Klaus is concerned because he's never considered Five human enough to be sick and another part of him is guilty because why didn't he notice this the moment that he stood on his brother's porch? The other part is confusion because why would Five take on Klaus as his pet project if he had his own issues to handle?

"Mind your own business."

"I will when you start taking care of yourself." Diego relents, " Look, I didn't show up here to call you out. I just think that if I'm here I can lighten the load and I can help Klaus too."

Five continues to glare; Diego looks to Klaus with haunted eyes, " I always felt like I failed you because I couldn't help you before. I had so much shit on my plate that I just... So I want to help now. This is what family is supposed to do. We're supposed to help each other."

" We are in no way a normal family."

"You're right but we can change that. Guys, we're almost 30. Are you really happy with all of us being estrangled?" Diego pleads.

Klaus starts to feel anxious because somehow the attention from both Five and Diego is too smothering. He shuffles in his seat and finds that beneath the discomfort he feels...cared for. Diego wants to help him and it's nice. The attention is always nice but what happens when Klaus fucks up because he knows he will. It's what he always does and that's when he starts to feel irritated. This is so much pressure and he's still not entirely sure that he wants to be clean and sober. In the back of his head he feels like this is just another temporary thing in his life and sooner or later he'll be back to sleeping on concrete, laying next to dirty syringes in some back alley or park that smells like other people's piss. He didn't choose that life but the same time he did choose that life. He doesn't know why he's wasting his time here when he knows he can't do it and why his brothers are choosing to waste their time either when he has a track record of failing them.

Diego might be happy right now but if he's devoting so much time and energy to Klaus who was always an energy drain he would soon find himself exhausted and overwhelmed. Five aswell. Really, if he was sick he should be focusing on himself and not some junkie sleeping on his couch. Things would devolve soon enough and Five barely wanted Klaus around so why would he approve Diego moving in? He would never say yes. And honestly the three of them living together just would never work. 

" One week."

Klaus looks up. What? 

Their tan brother grins and already it looks like Five has had enough and yet he does not change his decision, " Kickass!"


	7. Chapter 7

"I've made you a doctor's appointment for next Friday."

Klaus looks up at Five as Diego messes around in the kitchen in the background and blinks. While it's not the first thought in his head, or even the second, he finally says, " I don't have insurance cards."

"I requested new ones."

Klaus nods because he knows he's eligible for benefits as a veteran and previously he did go to the doctor if only to get treatment for lice or skin infections or other complications from his lifestyle. It was covered and he also knew that there were some programs that the VA would pay for but he had never looked into them. He wanted to say it was strange that his brother had all of his personal information like his birthday and social security number, maybe even his DD-214. But given which brother this was he wasn't all that surprised. The other confusion of course was the need for him to go to the doctor because he felt pretty okay. Five seemed to know what he was doing and as for withdrawals went, it was definitely not the hardest time he had ever had. But from the tone he can already tell that there will be no argument and he'll go and strip for some guy in a lab coat without a fuss. Maybe if he complains enough they'll give him a couple painkillers-

" I explained your medical history when I booked the appointment."

Klaus sighed; yeah...they weren't gonna prescribe him shit. He looks up as Diego saunders back to the couch. He had finished cleaning up after their takeout and putting leftovers in the fridge, having to wrap up Five's entire plate but nobody comments. Falling into the plush couch right beside his brother, the tan male crosses his arms and does a quick look around the quiet apartment.

"Really, no TV?"

Five gets up and slowly makes his way to the small dining table to return to his work. Picking up his tablet and also his glasses that have been tucked into his loose collar, he takes a moment to respond, " This isn't a hotel. You wanna TV, hit up the Hilton."

"Just saying, it gets boring." Diego looks at Klaus and yawns, " Wanna go for a walk, hit up 7-11?"

"No!"

Both of them jump at the anger in their smallest brother's voice. Klaus was pretty tired and would have declined going for a walk anyway but what was the big deal about him leaving? He felt like a prisoner in that moment- Diego doesn't seem to understand either but then a light bulb goes on as he looks between Five and Klaus with a grimace.

"Is...someone out for you, bro? When you said Martin I thought you were kidding."

"Yeah, this guy Marty." Klaus swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Somehow that had slipped his mind because he was so used to going where he pleased and while the feeling that he was trapped here didn't go away completely he understood why Five didn't want him out there. Unlike the homeless and drug addicts that contained themselves to the bad part of town, dealers that had connections to Upper society didn't stay on Sycamore Street and likely Marty had numerous people looking out for him. He wanted to comfort himself by thinking that he wasn't worth all the trouble to track down but something wasn't sitting right. Five knew something, knew about the danger he was in which was why he was reacting this way. How did his brother learn that he was in trouble and how was it that Klaus got to this side of town?

" You followed me."

Five wouldn't look at him and instead continued to peer at his tablet, waving his unharmed wrist and a gesture that seemed to show he didn't really seem to care that Klaus was upset. Diego was looking between the two of them in confusion, and given that five isn't talking Klaus talks to him instead.

"This... bastard followed me!" Klaus accused but then deflated, " He...when I was...how could you, Five!"

" If I hadn't, you'd be dead and buried in an unmarked grave."

Diego sputters, " What the hell? What the hell happened?"

" Hell if I remember! I was having a grand ole time…"Klaus passive aggressives, his voice forcibly light, " And then I woke up in his apartment, where he served me tea like some British host."

Five reaches for his mug and then seems disappointed when he realizes that it is empty. He stands very slowly and has to grip the table but no one comments on his slow shuffle.

"I saw that civilian give you money, and knew you would go get your fix. I saw you go into a pub and deduced that you were going to be utilizing their restrooms." Five drawled as he poured himself the last of the coffee. He proceeded to pop it into the microwave and then turned to face them both nonchalantly, " I ordered myself a margarita and waited for you to vacate their restroom. Only I overheard the bartender and who I presume to be the owner talking about you. 30 minutes later, I saw them drag your limp form through the back door so, " Five shrugged, " I finished my drink, decided you likely could use rescuing from being beaten to death in a back alley, and here we are."

"I don't remember any of that…"

Five rolls his eyes, "Of course. You were barely breathing when I dragged you. Still had your sleeve rolled up, tourniquet and everything." 

Klaus flinches, heart pounding as Diego speaks first, " And you didn't think to, I dunno, like call me and tell me you got into a fist fight with a damn drug dealer and his cronies? Or maybe that you had to carry our messed up brother across fucking town on your own?"

Messed up, Klaus repeats in his mind, the words repeating as he flushes.

"Figured it's on a need to know basis, " Five tips his mug in one hand as if to say cheers and grips the counter in the other as he takes a sip, " My point, you morons, is he can't be seen until we're sure they're not looking for him."

Klaus feels an irrational amount of anger and shame well up inside of him and he can't help but lash out; he can tell by the way Diego's head snaps towards him that it is surprising. A fight with Marty and one of his goons...this explains why Five was hurt. Of course said person, who he is now yelling at, doesn't react in the least, "You should NOT have been following me. You, you think you know everything and can do anything you want. Look at me, I'm fucking Five. I can be a self centered prick and judge everyone-"

Five just continues to sip his coffee and it is enough to force Klaus to his feet. The tall man rushes to the restroom, slamming the door like some moody teenager as his trembling hands come up to grip his hair. His hair is still greasy even though Five had put him in a bath earlier today or was it yesterday and wasn't that humiliating too. He scoffs as tears come to his eyes. He tries to track down the source of his whirlwind of emotions but it comes down to him feeling so much embarrassment that his brother had seen him like that. Usually he's too high to really care about the opinions of others but now as he's sobering up and feeling more emotional from withdrawal. The other thing is that he was pathetically predictable that day. He had blown up on Five for insinuating that he was getting money for drugs and what did he do when he got enough money from begging people on the street? He went and spent his money on drugs. He didn't even have more than a dollar to his name because he had gotten the good shit which he then proceeded to nearly OD on and of course then Five came in once again to save his dumbass. Who had an IV pole and fluid handy let alone methadone ready for someone coming off heroin? Five, because he knew more about Klaus' addicted mind than Klaus it seemed. And he hated that. He hated this know-it-all bullshit and everyone just knowing how Klaus is, how he ticks when of course it's not that simple but they have to simplify it down until it's just that Klaus is a bad person and that's why he does the things he does. It reminds him so much of their father that he wants to tear his hair out.

"Hey, man. Can I come in?"

Tears are trailing down the lean man's cheeks, smearing his already messed up eyeliner. His voice is like gravel as he sniffles, " Fuck off, Diego."

" We're gonna talk this out like adults, okay. So you can hide yourself in there as long as you want but when we're still going to be out here when you're ready."

And it's equal parts comforting and frustrating. Where were they before when things weren't so bad, when he was in rehab and had nobody to write letters to or call when he tried to get sober in the beginning? In a way he appreciates the show of support now but he also hates it because it is a reminder of how alone he's been since Ben died. It's not fair that they're doing this to him, that they're asking him to be someone that he isn't while simultaneously telling him who he is. But as he looks in the mirror it's clear to him now more than ever that he's not even sure who he is.

Ben used to tell him he was the funny one, the one who could make a joke out of even the most dire situation. His response had always been that Ben was the nice one who was always the shoulder to cry on and the person to give the best advice. But he can't laugh this off and he can't make a joke out of the shame that he feels. And Five...just isn't like Ben. Diego as well was never the type for heart to hearts. He would listen to a certain point and then his advice was always to pull yourself up by your bootstraps or to rub some dirt in it. This version of Diego who wanted to talk it out was just out of character, any other thing is close didn't even know what he would say because it wasn't as if it was rational for him to be so mad at Five for saving him. He really was projecting the anger that he aimed towards himself towards the smaller man because...because…

It's a lot of pressure he thinks. He looks at himself in the mirror as he continues to cry silently. It's one thing to fail when trying to give up drugs and only having yourself to disappoint. It was another thing entirely to have so many people supporting you and then...to fail, for them to see how you live and continue to live all because you can't cope with life without dope. He hadn't even picked up or hand access to a syringe but he could already feel it in his heart that he would relapse. It wasn't a matter of if but a matter of when. He thought back to Five's directive that Diego not make comments as if he was already recovered from his substance abuse; he probably knew that Klaus would fail too so why was he bothering? Why did he go to the pub? Why did he save him? Didn't he know that his addict of a brother would just disappoint him and if he got too close he would wind up just like Ben and Dave?

"Klaus."

He startles because he anticipated that Diego would be at the door negotiating while Five went about doing whatever he wanted. He doesn't know if he's delusional but he thinks that this is as close to apologetic as he'll ever hear Five's voice.

"We aren't mocking you."

Diego chimes in," Dude, this is hard for you. We get it. We're not judging you. I didn't mean to call you messed up, I mean I was just trying to imply that you weren't in your right mind when Five came and got you-"

"Hush, Diego. Klaus. I saved you because you are my brother, whether we get along or not. It took me leaving to realize how important family is and I've been trying ever since to bring us together. I can acknowledge that my attempt to help you left little choice on your end and I understand that you didn't ask to be saved."

Klaus lowers himself to his knees, trembling as he listens intently. His mouth is dry and his headache is returning.

" I can apologize for the forcefulness. But people rarely ask to be saved when they feel they don't deserve it. "

Diego cuts in urgently, " It's our fault you probably think that way because all of us, all of our siblings have had our heads shoved so far up our asses... It didn't used to be like that but I think that when we lost the glue that held us together, when he passed away…."

"But. " Five says with determination, " We have been changing things."

"Yeah, I mean. You see that me in Five-o are getting along. And would you believe that Vanya and Allison call each other everyday now to talk about their kids and their spouses and all that fun domestic crap?" Diego adds, " Luther and Vanya are, well, uh, they're...making some progress. Now that you're here that's another sibling. We know it's not going to be easy but nothing in life is easy. I can tell you that for sure. But we believe in you, man. Make this whole addiction stuff your bitch!"

"Charming words of encouragement as always Diego."

Klaus can't help but smile as he wipes at his eyes. He can imagine the deadpan look on Five's face, and as he hears their other brother stutter and sputter indignantly, he manages to get the strength to climb to his feet. He still doesn't want to face them but somehow it is rekindled within him a feeling of family. He has lost many years with them but if they're willing to support him now... But it seems so scary to leave the bathroom now. What if he fails and what if they are just placating him but in their minds judging him? His thoughts are cut off when he hears an alarm go off on the other side of the door.

"What's that?"

"His next dose. Klaus-"

Klaus opens the door and he can't find the strength to smile as he sniffles loudly, but he allows himself to be guided to the couch. He doesn't say a word when Five brings out the methadone and directs Diego into making him a cup of tea. He remains silent when the brown blanket is tucked around his shoulders and his phone is placed in his lap so that it is easily accessible to him. He doesn't know what to say but his emotional fit has exhausted him to the point that he no longer feels like he is on the edge anymore. He repeats back the words his brother's head offered to him and it's hard to believe that he has a family. It's hard to believe that they want to help him. Probably the hardest thing to believe is that he deserves it. 

Part of him wants to put it out there and make it very clear about his strong belief that he will relapse sooner or later. He wants them to have no expectations and so they won't feel disappointed in him. But somehow the words never leave his mouth and the moment passes as Diego convinces Five to let him heat up his plate from dinner and bring it to him as he types on his tablet. He observes their interaction and things have definitely changes and never would he have thought the two of them would be so casual with one another like they truly were siblings. They bicker and snark but there's no malice; things have changed. Maybe Klaus can change too, he thinks with little hope.

Staring at the wall he knows only time will tell.


	8. Chapter 8

Klaus tucked the pamphlets and other forms under his arm as he walked out of the doctor's office to where his brothers are sitting on a bench. Five has his eyes closed and his arms crossed, strangely wearing a heavy coat and a beanie despite it being close to 70 degrees outside. Diego is smoking a cigarette and seems sheepish when he sees his brother; he had tried really hard to hide his bad habit but of course when he had cut Klaus' hair this morning he had smelled the smoke. The hippie hadn't made a comment but had thought he might kill for a cigarette, or he might be killed if he asked to bum one in front of Five. But maybe, if their littlest brother was pointedly ignoring Diego...

" I got a few prescriptions, " Klaus says, rubbing the back of his bare neck; his hair was as short as it was in boot camp.

" There is a 24 hour pharmacy on Kern Avenue that I can swing by," Diego blinks but lets Klaus steal the cancer stick from between his fingers. The first puff feels like salvation and Klaus holds it in until he sees sparks dance in his vision. He lets out the exhale and frowns when he sees it's almost at the filter now. He takes another puff anyway because he must already be pretty desperate if he's willingly smoking menthol.

He supposed he was but all in all, he wasn't in the worst health of his life or in the worst situation. Living in an actual apartment meant that he could use the restroom when he needed and could shower when he wanted. He had access to food and water and actual comfortable places for him to sit and sleep. He never had to worry about trying to find a place to charge his phone and it was just so quiet and warm indoors. He honestly felt spoiled after a week being off the streets. The doctor told him he was on the mend because of it. He unfortunately did have a raised white blood cell count, was malnourished, and was somehow dehydrated despite the tea and juice that Five forced on him. The doctor had asked about his life on the streets in a pretty clinical way but it was still embarrassing when an STI panel was recommended, and a referral to behavioral health was strongly recommended. The cherry on top was of course his blank expression when he was asked which clinic had prescribed the methadone and he had not known. The doctor had seemed a bit concerned when he said it had come from his brother, but said he'd talk to Five.

That had really been the full extent of the doctor's visit. He hadn't tried to complain of any pain to score some meds, the thought only crossing his mind after he had left the examination room. Maybe he was changing, he thought anxiously, but the light of the track marks on his hands since his veins on his arms were mostly no good. He'd been given a nice dark grey long sleeve to wear but he could still feel it, the scar tissue that had built up at the crook of his arms. He could imagine the rush of burning cold as he punished it into his vein. He'd gotten so used to the prick that he didn't feel that anymore unless he had to reuse a syringe of was given one too big for his petite, shrunk veins-

"Five?"

The addict suddenly realizes their brother isn't moving despite being a naturally impatient person. Watching for several moments, they go over to hover beside and in front of him, Diego blocking the sun. Klaus folds the papers up and shoves them into the back pocket of the grey faded denim he'd been given. He'd been offered new boots too, or sneakers but instead he'd chosen a pair of Birkenstocks and happily painted his toes. Looking up from his wiggling toes, he winces. There's something off about the tight jawed and pale expression on Five's face. he looks like a little kid who's overly protective parents have bundled him up for winter, but also he kind of looks pretty sick.

" Wait."

Diego looks worried, " Are you okay, man?"

Five doesn't answer but there is a miniscule bit of shaking going on that is worrying them both. Then, Diego curses and starts to pat his pockets. He pulls out half of a chocolate bar and throws it in their brother's lap before pulling out his wallet next, looking at the door doctor's office that Klaus had just escaped. He might be a little bit slow on the uptake, but Klaus recalls the vending machine in the lobby that he saw a nurse use. He looks at Diego as he curses again, finding no paper money in his wallet, just a debit or gift card plus a few too many ids.

" You didn't eat." Diego accuses, " You damn brat. If you take meds on an empty stomach-"

"Fuck off, " Five snaps, " You're not the one who's…"

His mouth shuts with a small click like his teeth maybe connect. It's now obvious that his silence and also his still posture is because of his nausea and it is an attempt to keep himself from throwing up. Klaus knows that feel and cooes apologetically. A week on methadone had definitely improved his well being, except for the occasion upset stomach, headaches and body aches. But once again he wondered what meds Five was on and why he was so mysterious about it. The three of them had been living together for roughly a week and he had only seen him take his pills maybe twice. He'd also only seen him eat or consume something other than coffee maybe three times. Grimacing, he tries to think of a way to help.

" Want us to carry you to the car?" Klaus offers.

They have half a second to jump back before Five is vomiting coffee and stomach acid across the sidewalk. Klaus gags at the sight, turning away so he doesn't throw up next; he's glad he stepped back in time to avoid splatters on his feet. This goes on for a few more minutes and by the time he seems to have nothing else in his system to throw up there is a small crowd of nurses by the front of the doctor's office and an elderly woman, liking coming for her own appointment, is standing off to the side asking if everything is okay. Then, the doctor who had seen Klaus walks towards them.

" Are you alright, sir?"

"I go to the VA hospital, " Five croaks, " I'm fine."

"We can see you here as well. We often get veteran referrals-"

Five interrupts but allows the doctor to come closer and check his pulse, " I know. You just saw my brother."

"Oh, you're the one who helped him get opioid treatment. You must be-" the doctor looks at the business card offered to him and nods; it makes Klaus super curious as to what title is on that card and again he wonders how his brother had access to an IV pole and methadone, " Is there anyway I can help you, Mr. Hargreeves?"

Diego jumps in, " He took his medicine on an empty stomach. I think we just need to get him some crackers."

"What medication?"

Klaus moves in closer, watching as the elderly woman and all but one nurse leaves. This is better because he can sense that Five is getting uncomfortable but he also can't help but be interested in the answer; what medication was his brother on? Pain killers? What kind? Oxy maybe or even- Both the doctor and Klaus frown when Diego answers, the buff male looking nervously at Five.

"Trexall."

"I see. When did you begin treatment? Are you undergoing radiation as well? I'm not an oncologist but I would recommend that you do go to a doctor as soon as possible for worsening symptoms."

"Radiation?" Klaus blurts out, "Like for cancer?"

Diego looks at Klaus with sad eyes before he addresses the doctor when it becomes obvious that their sick brother isn't going to respond. It's not like Five to become quiet like this because he's much more argumentative and defensive usually, so if that isn't a sign for poor health then Klaus is not sure what is. The doctor stands, gently letting go of Five's healing wrist with a pitying gaze.

"I can't force you to seek medical advice but please book yourself a follow up. Feel better, Mr. Hargreeves."

The doctor hovers for a moment longer, maybe expecting Five to finally speak. But he doesn't and at last the doctor and the one remaining nurse go back inside the clinic. Klaus watches him go and he is having a very difficult time wrapping his mind around this information. So his brother was sick. His brother was really sick. Cancer. Cancer was...Klaus feels his breathing start to quicken. His brother was dying and he had had no damn idea. Was Five or even Diego going to tell him? He looks to Diego, somehow holding him more accountable because he had known. Did the rest of their siblings know? Was Klaus the only one left in the dark because he was a worthless, selfish addict who hadn't even thought his brother might be looking sick? Of course now he could see it, the paleness and the gauntness.

" Help me up."

Diego moves quickly, sidestepping the vomit but Klaus is still frozen in place. Once Five is up off the bench, he begins walking stiffly to the car. His brothers follow and with his hands shoved into his pockets, Diego admits, " He didn't want to tell me either. He...you know how he is. Super private. Super proud. He doesn't like bothering people with stuff even if I've told him a thousand times that he should trust his own family-"

" Is he terminal?"

Five stops in front of them, " No, I'm not."

"Were you going to tell me?" Klaus demands.

"If it was necessary."

Klaus almost explodes, Diego actually grabbing his shoulder to try and ground him. They're right beside the car now, the key fob chirping as the doors unlock to the small sedan, " You don't think it's necessary to tell the guy you force to come live with you that you are dying from cancer?!"

"I'm not dying-"

"He's not dying, Klaus-"

Five raises his voice, " And you know what, you can leave any damn time you like, Klaus. I'm not forcing you to stay. I'm not asking you to do anything. I don't need anyone hovering over me. There's no shackle on you or Diego's leg-"

Diego steps between them, " Will both of you just shut up and get in the car?"

Five looks away first, pulling open the door to the passenger side and climbing in. It takes Klaus a long moment to decide whether or not he wants to get into the car or if he just wants to try walking back to his spot on the other side of town. He still feels like he is short of breath and there is a burning in his eyes. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts because despite not being particularly close with Five, he was his brother. They had grown up together. They had endured Reginald Hargreeves together.

"He wanted you to be focused on your own health, " Diego says when Klaus has finally climbed into the backseat.

"Stop speaking for me."

Diego snarls as the thin man leans his head against the glass of the window, " Then start explaining yourself because he deserves at least that. He doesn't deserve the vague bullshit you tried to feed me when I found out."

"What do you want me to say?"

No one speaks for a moment because there isn't really much to say. Of course there were several questions bouncing around inside Klaus's head but he couldn't get the courage to ask why. Why did Five decide to get into his personal business now of all times? Why did he try to help him get sober when he had his own personal fight to win? Maybe Five wanted to die on good terms with him and without regret, he thought and he suddenly felt like his lungs were in a vice. It was like what Five had said several days ago when Klaus had locked himself in the bathroom. Five had a new perspective on what family meant and maybe this was the wake-up call, this diagnosis, that inspired the shift.

" You could have told me," Klaus says quietly as Diego heads to the CVS on Kern Ave.

Five doesn't respond.


	9. Chapter 9

They first head to the CVS to drop off the prescriptions but when they're told it'll be a 40+ minute wait they head to the Trader Joe's next door. 

Diego suggests that Five wait in the car but the words have barely left his lips when the car door shuts on the passenger side and the smaller man is storming towards the large automatic doors of the store. His brothers follow, Klaus grabbing a small basket and immediately grabbing a fancy cinnamon brioche and some equally fancy blocks of cheese. All of them are in a mood and so Klaus heads in the opposite direction of his brothers, focusing on grabbing food that just a week ago he had never even dreamed of. His appetite has improved and so he shopped like a starving man, feeling a little vindictive when he saw the prices. Five could afford it. He probably didn't pay anything out of pocket for his cancer expenses.

Klaus reaches the wine section.

He looks at all the different bottles and he can't bring himself to extend his arm and grasp the glass necks. He stares, closing his eyes behind the sunglasses he was asked to wear as part of his disguise.

Then, he hears it.

It's smothering. The heat and the air make him feel like he's drowning in dry land, and he coughs often to try and dislodge the dryness. Dave is affected in much the same way but Ben...Ben has more energy that most of them, his eyes sharp. He's always worried about them, and the other soldiers that share a campsite site. He follows orders well and doesn't seem to take anything personal, even if Klaus knows some of the nasty comments they hear about Arabs and women and humans in general leave Ben with a frown. He's a bleeding heart but he's also a soldier. A damn good soldier.

"Be careful, " Klaus says on a quiet night. Their convoy leaves at dawn.

"I'll be okay." Ben assures him.

Ben won't die. Ben can't die. Ben would be okay. He had told himself this a thousand times until he has lures himself into a false sense of security. In the end, he should have known. He should have done something, anything because Ben was not okay. And neither was Five- the androgynous man jerks. He's no longer in the wine section anymore, now somewhere near a walk of faux meats and cheeses. He pretends to look at one with trembling hands, discreetly wiping his eyes. He wonders how much of this food he's going to be forced to put back and also where his two brothers are. In the end it doesn't take long for him to answer this question as he throws down tofu sausage and abandons the nearly full cart.

"-won't, man. He's not like that. "

"This is exactly why I didn't want anyone to be told." Five croaks.

"He's stronger than you think. He'll stick around. I just know it."

"In two days, max, he'll be gone. "

Diego sighs and Klaus feels cold listening to them, still unseen. He knows they are talking about him and Five has a point. He had already been thinking about who's couch he could go crash on and where he could go that might be safe from Marty other than the apartment. He didn't want to stay. He couldn't stay, not when he finally knew what was going on behind the scenes. Five didn't care about him. He had only invited him into his life as one last shot to soothe his conscience. When his messed up brother failed it would be no surprise. While Klaus OD'd in some alley or breathed his last breath as one of Marty's guys curb stomped him, Five could move on with his life knowing he at least tried.

"He's not like that. He'll want to help. I know Klaus. He's just scared and hurt you tried to hide it from him."

Diego was far too optimistic, far too naive to think Klaus was that self less. Ben was the nice one while Klaus only thought of himself. And yet, his stomach felt like he was on a rollercoaster, churning and dropping because...because he was scared. Cancer was cancer. He'd seen enough Lifetime movies and doctor shows to know and somehow he couldn't accept the concept that maybe treatment would work. To be honest, Klaus was scared shitless and you can kind of see why Five didn't want to see anything because it put a lot of pressure on him to do something. He kind of wanted to take care of Five even though the smaller man would never allow it, but seeing the way that Diego is holding on to their brother's arm to keep him steady...Five didn't have a choice. And Diego could probably use some help.

But I can't. Klaus feels the shaking in his hands become a full body shake. How could he hope to protect someone else when he had failed the two most important people in his life? He couldn't even take care of himself.

"Sir, is this your cart?"

Klaus looks towards the employee and then towards his brothers. They see him now and his cover is officially blown. He shakes his head and tries to look confused, walking away from the cart he had been piling things into just a few minutes before. He sees that Diego is holding a small basket that contains things and so he changes his mind about all the things he had grabbed. Well, except maybe he could convince his brothers to get him that brioche.

" Oooh, organic."

Five won't look at Klaus but his tone is still dry and full of sarcasm, " I'm sure there's no other store selling organic blueberries for less than $12."

"Yeah, " Diego winces, " To be honest a lot of the stuff is shit. We should go to Walmart or something."

"Oh, I love Walmart! Let's go!"

They start to put back everything that is in Diego's small handheld cart, leaving the store and heading to CVS. Klaus keeps an eye on Five who seems to suddenly be back to his regular self. But the way that he sinks into the car seat, and doesn't contribute to their conversation as they drive to Walmart, just switched off the radio when a pop music station is put on, it worries him.

" Your next dose is in a few hours, " Five finally says as they walk down the aisle of the next store.

Diego throws a bag of rice into the cart that Five is holding a little too tightly to be normal, " We won't stay long, promise. Klaus, can you help me find a water filter?"

"Yeah, sure. Like Britta?"

They leave Five in the bakery section and start to walk, browsing and companionable silence that had an intense edge to it. They finally came to the right section and paused for several seconds. It was clear that this had been an excuse for the two of them to talk privately, but Diego had always struggled with his words. He had always floundered when faced with a sharp tongue that Five possessed, and he had always looked at Ben with amazement and how easily he could say things poignantly and compassionately. Luther and Allison had always received looks filled with envy and how easily they could sound commanding and stern with clear voices without a single stutter. Klaus thought that Diego might even envy him, or at least the way that he could deliver a joke so easily. Probably the only one of their siblings that Diego could relate to was Vanya whose voice was always so small and quiet that sometimes she wasn't heard at all.

"Look, man, " Diego starts as expected, fumbling a little because of his nerves, " I kn-know this is a lot but-"

"I'm not going to leave."

Diego looks as surprised as Klaus feels, because he truly had not meant to blurt that out but all the same he knew. He hated being sober and he hated all of the emotions and memories that were coming to the surface now that he was in his right mind. But at the same time he couldn't pretend that he didn't have his own regrets that he wanted to absolve. He couldn't pretend that a big part of him didn't want to make sure that his most aggressive and sarcastic brother was okay before he went back to ruining his own life. He would never consider himself the most observant but the one thing that stood out most about the apartment he was staying in was how quiet and lonely it was.

He'd been pretty lonely out there too, and he thinks Diego was too. After all, why else would he lie about his landlord dying? ( Klaus had pretended he didn't overhear the security guard asking for his deposit back from the little old lady a few days back.)

Klaus highly doubted that he would be able to help but he could do one thing and that was be around. He hadn't been there for Ben and Dave. He had failed but maybe, just maybe if he didn't run this time- Klaus grabbed the water filter off the shelf, shaking it at Diego with a forced smile.

"Got it, let's go."


	10. Chapter 10

"Okay, " Five shuts the door, "Okay. We need to revisit what happened today and set some boundaries."

Diego hurries to the kitchen appearing to be entirely invested in making sure that everything was put away and delaying the lecture for as long as he can. Klaus wants to help bring in the bags but the muscle aches and the headache had returned halfway through their shopping trip and he didn't entirely have the strength to lift the bags. He was already halfway to the couch with the blanket in hand when their smallest brother had spoken.

Noting the disinterest, Five starts moving the remaining bags that have been deposited just inside the door to the counter. Klaus watches him with a cracked eye but Diego is fast to scoop up the rest. He hasn't finished putting away things, having only gone through one back but he seems to want to prevent Five from moving anything that may be too heavy. But instead of getting angry or snapping at him, Five just switches roles and starts to take things out of the bags to place them in the cabinets or the refrigerator. It's clear now as he opens up doors how empty the kitchen had been and that is why he had only been able to really offer takeout or tea or coffee. Without comment the owner of the apartment carefully folds the now empty paper bags and places them in a drawer off to the side. With Diego working furiously to put the rest of the things away, they're done in a matter of minutes and then Klaus is being offered methadone.

Part of him thinks he may be too nauseous to take it but he still drinks it and then washes it down with orange juice. The upset stomach worsens and he squeezes his eyes shut. Diego takes back the carefully measured cup, washing it and placing it back inside the case. Five takes the case, disappearing down the hall and he doesn't come back right away.

Shaking a bit despite the brown blanket he is wrapped in, Klaus thinks of all that he had been allowed to treat himself to today, snacks and clothes and products, and tries not to think about how tiring it was. He certainly doesn't want to think about the cost and how Five had paid for everything. Slowly, he feels the aches ease and tries not to think about how there were things far better that he could take to handle his symptoms than the single serving he was being given- but he'd been through withdrawal before. He knew the cravings wouldn't end for some time and that he shouldn't listen to that train of thought. At least he wasn't trying to detox without help this time around, though he certainly had mixed feelings about it.

Diego sighs as he all but collapses in the nearest chair, " I'll make dinner in an hour or so."

"You can cook?"

The former cop looks at the ceiling, " Yeah. I...when I was married well, it was something we both liked to do. Anyway. What are you in the mood for?"

"I just want to..." Klaus decides not to say 'stop existing' and instead says, "...sit."

"I'll make something light. Anything in particular you don't want?"

Klaus opens his mouth to respond before he realizes that Five has entered the room again, and is hovering behind the couch that he currently occupies. Five digs his fingers into the plush material of the long piece of furniture and seems to think for a little bit, " Up to you. Now, as I mentioned earlier-"

"Do you want to sit down?"

"No, so just shut up and listen, " That familiar edge has returned to Five's voice, " This is exactly what I want to prevent. You both need to get it through your head that I'm not feeble or incapable of caring for myself. "

"Can we just... not?" Klaus interrupts, gesturing with one hand.

" It needs to be said, " Five argues.

"We won't coddle you, okay? We get it. But you will ask for help when you need it then, right?" Diego says, looking at their brother pleadingly, " That's all I'm asking, bud. Is that you talk to us."

"I don't need help."

"But if you do, " Diego insists, " You just started your second round of treatment. Who knows about the side effects, or it-"

" I don't want to talk about this, " Klaus groans, hiding his head under the blankets as his anxiety spiked.

This seems to take them all by surprise because for a moment there are no words spoken. it seems awfully selfish of him that he doesn't even want to talk about this because it is necessary. He should ask questions and want to know more about his brother's health but he just feels like he can't handle it at the moment. class tells himself that he already has too much on his plate and that he feels too sick and sore to handle a topic this dark. And when it comes down to it, if his brother does become too sick then class will just leave regardless of the danger and Diego can handle it. Does that make Klaus selfish? It seems like it does but nobody says that. Instead Five turns to leave, a sneer on his lips as he pats the back of the couch, " Don't bother me unless someone is dead or dying."

" I thought we were gonna set boundaries."

Five calls over his shoulder, " If you want to play nursemaid, your patient is right here. I on the other hand have work to do."

When he is gone Diego looks at Klaus, " You said you won't leave."

Klaus ignores him, waiting for the headache behind his eyes to leave him and for sleep to finally take him. But before he starts to doze he hears a sad sign and listens to his brother as he walks across the floor, a chair just getting against the wood as a sign that he has pulled out one of the dining chairs. He hears some kind of broadcast and thinks that Diego might be watching the news on his phone, but he doesn't stay awake long enough. Today had already been too much. He would deal with all of this tomorrow.

\---

A week later he's feeling better, strong enough to make his own meals and grab his own tea or juice to take with his medication. He goes with Diego to pick up a secondary prescription when his STI panel returns, and while he manages to push away any shame he feels from the positive diagnosis, he still feels like a target when he grabs a little white bag and places it in his lap as they drive back to Five's apartment. 

But Diego seems to know what to do for a melancholy mood because he swings by Starbucks on their way back, getting a small blonde roast for their grumpiest flatmate. Wearing a beanie and in much more conservative clothes Klaus is pretty sure that he won't be recognized going out and so he wonders if he can make this a daily thing if he's feeling up for it. No one likes being cooped up and while he knows the temptation is out there if he goes out on his own, he's happy to go out with Diego.

He half expected another sibling to show up but so far it's just the three of them. Vanya had called but the conversation had been stilted. Maybe that is why Allison hadn't shown herself because being married to Luther meant that she had to convince him to not only put aside his grievances with Five but his own personal opinions about Klaus. It wasn't that Luther was homophobic like their father but he was conservative in a way and could never justify the drug use or other behaviors that marked Klaus' life. Much like their father he was judgmental and had certain opinions that just made it very difficult to talk to him, but he knew that Allison wasn't like that. She was a former sorority girl and she had gone to many parties in her lifetime, had been the life of said parties so he had hoped that she would come by with a bottle of wine so that they could gossip together. After all, Diego was working the only company that he had was Five- who was either angry or indifferent towards him.

" I'll be back around 1:00 a.m. We have leftovers from yesterday if you want them. "

Klaus, after he had been dropped off by Diego and had wandered back inside the apartment, realizes he is pretty sure he ate the leftovers earlier as lunch. That had been one change since his appetite had returned with a vengeance since the nausea had eased. He ate much like a hobbit these days with a second breakfast and elevensies... It had done wonders for his skeleton like physique. Once or twice he'd even had the energy to go for a walk, but he was still taking it easy. The couch was still his chosen place and the blanket he had been using for a week was still his hideaway. It wasn't so much that he had to hide because he only saw their other brother when he came out for a coffee or when he used the dining table on occasion for his work. The majority of his papers and folders and even his tablet had been moved to his room and so this was a less common occurrence. 

But try as he may Klaus could not help but look for signs of some illness. He told himself that he would ignore it, but he still got anxious when he thought about the cancer diagnosis. often he regretted not wanting to have that conversation because maybe that would have been the time he could have asked questions and learned more but now Five was as closed off as he had ever been. Was Five taking all necessary medication? Was he going to his doctor's appointment? What kind of work was he doing? Should he really be working this much? Was he eating right? Was he sleeping? Was that amount of coffee healthy for an individual with cancer? but this isn't the question he asks when Five walks by to refill his mug for the fifth time.

"How'd you get methadone for me?"

Five pauses, looking disheveled, " I had our clinician prescribe it for you. You met him the second day you were here. Although I doubt you remember. He also provided the IV and saline."

Klaus stares because he doesn't remember honestly.

"You'll meet with him next week. Herb will determine your new dosage, or if you still need to be weaned off opioids."

Klaus startles because he hadn't thought about when he would come off of the methadone. The very idea makes him anxious and again he contemplates leaving because he can't function without something numbing the aches or taking the edge off. His panic must show on his face because Five sighs noisily which of course makes Klaus mad. Did his brother have to be so judgy? He was coming off drugs. He was still in withdrawal. He needed help and to cut him off like this? Maybe he was being hyper irrational because it wasn't definite that he would no longer have the help next week but in his head, it felt almost like a threat, like a cloud hanging over his head. This would be the hard part. This would mean that he would have to go without anything in his system and the very thought terrified him.

I can't do it, he tells himself, fisting the blanket in his lap. I can't do it.

"Here, " Five offers him orange juice.

Klaus looks up, hears a little bleeping sound before his brother shuts off his watch. It was time for his next and he doesn't consider that he wasn't having as many symptoms like he usually did when it was time for his next dose. He didn't acknowledge that he was doing better and that maybe he didn't need the methadone as much as he had in the beginning. And steady focused on the cold glass of orange juice and then the small cup of syrupy liquid that Five brings to him. It soothes him. He still has it now. He's okay for now. But he needs to get more and somehow stockpile it. He needs to find out where his brother keeps the methadone so he can take it-

"I'm not cold turkeying you. Stop fixating."

The addict jumps, " But what if they don't prescribe more? What is he again? A doctor?"

Doctors don't like people like him. Doctors don't like junkies that come in, wandering into the ER with fake pains and symptoms in the hopes of getting medication.

"A clinician, " Five says and almost sounds reassuring, " It will be fine. He's going to just confirm the dose is okay, and compose a long term plan for you as an outpatient."

"You're gonna tell him to cut me off, " Klaus accuses, surprising even himself."

Five looks at him a long time and then, sighing again, goes back to his room to his room to work. The lankier man continues to fidget until the medication kicks in, making him feel lazy. His paranoia eases and he stops contemplating the window and the bolt on the front door. It feels like time goes by quickly and before he knows it Diego is walking through the door still in his security officer uniform though his face is tired. He watches him prepare himself a late dinner, contemplates sitting up so that Diego knows he is awake but in the end decides to stay curled up in the blankets. Even though it sounds irrational even to him he thinks that somehow Diego must know about his panic earlier and his desire for more medication. Maybe he's just looking for an excuse but it feels the thought that he must come up with a plan soon and that he must leave. He can't stay here and be a coward so the real question now is when?


End file.
